A Killing Anger
by bionic4ever
Summary: Tab3: Someone is seeking to hurt Oscar by going after the people and things he loves the most, including Jaime. Will the results cause Oscar to take revenge of his own?
1. Chapter 1

**A Killing Anger**

Chapter One

Jaime grinned happily at her husband as she settled into his arms in the back of their private jet. "Hard to believe no one in DC tried to call you away from our honeymoon."

Oscar's smile was softer, but no less radiant. "The only one who knows this was a honeymoon is Steve. Russ and the others think I'm at a conference. They tried to summon me back to my desk; you just didn't know about it."

"Really?"

"I told Russ to handle it, that he had my scheduled return date and anything before then was his problem."

"No, you didn't!"

Oscar pulled her closer, onto his lap and kissed her before answering. "Maybe I was a little nicer about it."

Jaime laughed, returning the kiss with a much deeper one. "It's even harder to believe that tomorrow, my husband becomes my boss -"

"Temporarily."

"Still...I'd better make sure I'm in the boss's good graces. The pilot can't see us, right?" She began slowly unbuttoning his shirt, then eased it off his shoulders, not waiting for a reply. Oscar shifted so Jaime's body was pressed against him, and while they enjoyed the last hours of their honeymoon, he tried to forget the fact that he already had an assignment waiting for his new wife. It was urgent, dangerous, had the potential to get very ugly, and...she would be partnered with Steve.

- - - - - -

The next morning, as Oscar straightened his tie, ran a comb through his hair and drank a cup of coffee at the same time, he glanced at Jaime in the mirror as she stood behind him. "I need you to come in this morning, at 10," he told her softly.

"Am I working?" she asked, brightening. She'd been sure that Oscar would never send his _wife _on an assignment, and had been worried how she'd cope with the impending boredom.

Oscar turned around and kissed her quickly, on his way down the hall. He'd already begun switching into 'boss' mode. "Let's talk about it when you get there, ok? I'd rather not deal with security issues at home."

"Ok, but -"

"I love you," he said, giving her one more kiss before heading out the door.

Jaime's curiosity was piqued, but she had to wait another two hours before she could get any answers. Sighing, she sat down at the kitchen table and poured another cup of coffee. She'd only taken her first sip when the phone rang. It was _her _line (she couldn't answer Oscar's line, or it could expose their relationship), and it was Steve.

"How was the honeymoon?" he asked, happy to hear her voice. Steve missed Jaime far more than he'd admit to anyone, including himself.

"Wonderful!"

"I'm glad. Jaime, I am really happy – for both of you," he said, meaning it. It had taken him a very long time to reach that point, to get over losing Jaime, especially since he was still posing as her lover for the world's eyes, to hide the fact that she was with Oscar. It had been the only ploy the trio could come up with that would keep Jaime and Oscar safe. Steve still loved her – deeply – but he could see how much she loved Oscar, and knew that his friend/boss would be good to her (and for her), so he did everything in his power to ensure they could safely be together.

"Thank you," Jaime told him. "That means a lot to both of us."

"No charades for us today, though; I have to see your husband this morning, and I imagine I'll be off to somewhere -"

"Hey, me too! Think we're working together?"

"Ten o'clock?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds like it." Steve smiled to himself. It would be good to see her again. "See you in a couple hours, then."

When Jaime hung up the phone, she was smiling, too.

- - - - - -

Jaime spent the next hour pondering as she drank her coffee. She was blissfully happy with Oscar, and knew none of it would've been possible without Steve's help (and at times, his gentle nudge). At the same time, she felt horribly conflicted and guilty for what they were putting him through. She couldn't remember what they had shared together, no matter how hard she tried, but Steve was such a kind, loving man; Jaime could easily understand how she had once been in love with him. She could only imagine how he felt, acting out – in public, no less – what they used to have for real.

Steve was waiting by the Tranquility Fountain as Jaime walked up the sidewalk and, playing their public roles to perfection, they embraced each other warmly and leaned in for a kiss.

"No tongue, Austin," Jaime whispered, very quietly. "I'm a newlywed."

Steve chuckled. "And your husband just happens to be standing in his office window," he told her, audible only to a bionic ear. His lips met Jaime's with all the passion they could both put into it – hers for show, and his...almost an act. Oscar turned away from the window, knowing it had to be this way for now, but still feeling a little bit like he'd just caught them cheating. He walked back to his desk and closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to fully re-enter OSI mode before Steve and Jaime came inside.

- - - - - -


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Steve and Jaime dropped each other's hand the second the inner office door closed behind them and they were out of Callahan's sight. The grim expression on Oscar's face and his tense body language told Jaime that an affectionate greeting was out of the question. His serious mood was contagious, and she exchanged a worried glance with Steve as they both took a seat.

The OSI Director wasted no time. "Forty-three hours ago, an unknown group seized control of the Washington Aqueduct. They've made no further moves and no demands as of yet, but -"

Steve grimaced. "But they have the capability to do anything they want to the entire DC water supply."

"Right. They appear to be awaiting the arrival of their own scientist, who has worked with the Aqueduct in the past and has the combination to the safe where the access key is located. The scientist, accompanied by a secretary, was due to arrive there in -" Oscar glanced at his watch, "less than two hours."

Jaime shifted in her seat. "You want me to put on a short skirt and play secretary, right?"

Oscar shook his head. "Wrong. _You _are the scientist. We took Doctor Marjorie King into custody a few hours ago, along with her secretary, Jacob Myers."

Steve blanched. "Oscar, you know I don't look good in skirts!"

Jaime stifled her giggle when she saw her husband's face. "Ok," she surmised, "we have this Marjorie person in custody, so we have the combination, right?"

Oscar lowered his head, busying himself by stuffing papers into a slim, yellow file. "Doctor King must have had a cyanide capsule hidden somewhere on her person; she's dead, Jaime."

"Ok. No problem. I can crack a safe with my eyes shut."

"You'll have to make an initial hit on the safe without being detected," Oscar told her, "to substitute a phony key. Then, hopefully, you and Steve can take these people down before the need arises for you to open the safe in front of them."

"Once they find out that's not the right key," Steve added, "all hell's gonna break loose."

"Exactly. If it comes to that, the two of you will have to evacuate immediately, but at least their access to the water system will be delayed a sufficient length of time, and our own men can seize control."

"If it all goes right, you'll just send in the troops to arrest everyone, and we've got another happy ending, right?" Jaime said hopefully.

"That's the plan, but we don't know who these people are or what their intention is, so you'll have to tread very, very carefully, get all the information you can and take control as quickly as possible," Oscar told them. He picked up the yellow file and handed it to Steve. "Here's the dossier. There's a chopper waiting on the roof, with clothes for you both to change into; you'll have to leave right away. Good luck."

Jaime and Steve got up to go, and Oscar's eyes bored into Steve's with a look he could read easily: _Take care of my wife, Pal._

- - - - - -

The chopper took off immediately, as soon as they were both on board. Steve slicked back his hair, donned his white lab-coat-like jacket and 'nerd' glasses and looked up to see Jaime standing against the wall, her outfit still in her hands.

"Jaime?"

"Could you...turn around?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Steve...please."

"It's not like you're stripping totally naked," Steve pointed out helpfully. "Besides, even if you were, I know what you look like."

"_Steve -_"

"Sorry; kidding." Steve turned his back toward Jaime and further occupied himself by reading the dossier until she was ready.

"Let's get to work," she told him breezily, once again all business. Together, they sat down with the dossier. Jaime had to know her way around the Aqueduct as well as Marjorie King would have, and there wasn't much time to study. "Whatever staff is still there would've known the real Marjorie, though," Jaime thought out loud. "What if..."

Steve shook his head and pointed silently to the last line at the bottom of the incident summary. "Oh," Jaime said softly, her face paling as the gravity of the situation hit her all at once.

_All on-duty staff believed to be deceased._

- - - - - -

The chopper left Jaime and Steve in a small field, about three miles from the Aqueduct. Sticking to their plan, Steve played the lost (and somewhat dim) assistant, going in through the main entrance, and making a point of looking for his 'boss' as loudly and obviously as he could. Meanwhile, Jaime made her way to the far side of the structure, stopping just behind the rear entrance guard shack. She stood quietly, listening until she heard Steve go into his "Doctor King hates it when I'm late; she's gonna kill me" spiel, then she jumped high and long, landing on the other side of the fence, away from the windows of the guard shack.

Picturing the map of the structure and its surrounding complex, she ran bionically fast through the shadows until she reached a window to a small room, right at the center and jutting out over the water on its other side. Peering in, Jaime noted that Steve must be doing well; the room was deserted. She jimmied the window as quietly as possible and pulled it open, then stepped inside and moved quickly to the safe. The combination was no challenge, and the safe door swung open easily. Jaime took the phony key from her pocket and reached inside the metal compartment, but when she grabbed the waiting key to make the switch she was frozen in place by a sudden jolt of electric current that sent her right arm into instant, uncontrollable spasms. She barely had time to utter "Damn it" before her legs gave out and she slid to the floor.

- - - - - -


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Oscar, we've got big problems," Russ announced as he threw open the heavy office door without knocking. He placed a sheet of paper on the desk. "Coroner's report on Marjorie King. Not a trace of cyanide in her body; no drugs of any kind."

"What?" Oscar was glad he was sitting down. "Then how -?"

"She had ruptured blood vessels in her eyes; other than that, no visible injuries. Not a mark on her – no bruises and no signs of a struggle. Coroner says she was suffocated, probably in her sleep."

"She was in that cell less than an hour," Oscar pointed out, a sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

"There's more," Russ told him in a grim voice. "Time of death is between 10pm and midnight – _last night_."

"My God..." Oscar whispered.

"Looks like the NSB arrested a corpse."

- - - - - -

Steve found himself surrounded by people who seemed just a little too eager to help him. An ominous sound, somewhere between a foghorn and a blood-curdling scream told him things weren't as rosy as they appeared.

"There's your Doctor King now," one of the men told him with a smile that oozed evil. "Or...whoever she _really _is."

"Huh?" Steve put on his best dumb and confused look while his insides were beginning to quake.

"Don't be dumb – we know she's an impostor, or...she _was_, anyway."

"What the hell?" Steve countered. "First the temp agency told me I was working for a doctor and she turned out to be a scientist, and now you're saying -"

"**Shut up**!" an authoritative voice demanded from the doorway. "Who sent you? FBI? OSI?"

"Huh?" Steve knew now that dumb wasn't working, but he was stalling for time.

"Who do you work for, Moron? Which agency?"

Steve shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "Righttemp."

The leader in the doorway scoffed and then stepped aside, allowing two huge, beefy assistants to drag Jaime into the room. She hung limply between them, with her eyes closed, but Steve's gut instinct told him she was awake.

"Who is she?" the leader demanded, stepping toward Steve.

"If she's not King," Steve answered, "then your guess is as good -"

"I'll ask you once more," the leader growled, inches from Steve's face, "_who is she?_"

"I. Don't. Know."

"Fine." He turned to the men holding Jaime. "Kill her."

- - - - - -

Oscar said a fast silent prayer as he sat in the backseat of the lead car in a squadron that was heading at top speed for the Aqueduct. Storming in with a troop's worth of guns blazing was the last thing he wanted to do, but with the NSB security tapes missing and Jack Hansen nowhere to be found, there was no other choice to be made. He'd sent his wife and his best friend (who were also his two top operatives) into a virtual minefield of a trap. Their covers hadn't been blown because it appeared they'd never had real covers to begin with. Perhaps they'd managed to quietly infiltrate the place and were having some degree of success, but Oscar had no way of knowing that, and he couldn't count on it.

He thanked Providence that at least Steve was in that mess with Jaime. They worked well together, and Oscar knew Steve would give his life to protect her. That thought flooded Oscar's soul with guilt. Steve had loved Jaime wholeheartedly ever since they were little kids. Their destinies had been intertwined, seemingly forever, by fate. While it was true that Jaime had no memory of their love and Steve had come to accept that, Oscar knew Steve's feelings hadn't diminished in the least. Steve was his best friend, and Oscar had married the only woman Steve would probably ever love. What right did he have? Should he have given Jaime more time? Would that have put her back into Steve's arms, where most of the world seemed to feel she belonged?

No! His heart, his feelings mattered, too! Oscar had gone many years without allowing any woman to penetrate the thick protective shell he'd fastened around his heart, but Jaime...she was different. He'd tried to convince himself that she should be with Steve, even if she couldn't see that at the time, but his heart had other plans. Oscar and Jaime shared something that neither had been looking for but it was so strong that neither of them could fight or deny it. Love worked that way, sometimes, banging you over the head when you didn't expect – or even want – it to. Now, Oscar couldn't even begin to picture his life without Jaime in it.

He leaned forward, toward Russ. "Drive faster."

- - - - - -

_Kill her _was his clarion call to action. Steve grabbed the man directly in front of him and shoved him into one of Jaime's captors. The force sent the leader and both thugs sprawling to the ground, taking Jaime with them, but temporarily saving her from being shot. She opened her eyes; Steve's instinct had been right - she was awake. Normally, they worked together like pieces of the same well-oiled clock, and the next move should've been Jaime's. He'd sent her into the perfect position to disarm both men, but...something was wrong. Jaime wasn't springing to her feet or grabbing the guns. She looked up at Steve with something he'd never seen in her eyes before while they were working: **fear**. Since she'd never been one to freeze like that, Steve knew he was on his own, fighting for both of them.

The leader had struggled back onto his now-wobbly feet, pulled his own gun and stood directly over Jaime. She kicked feebly at him, and Steve's heart sank. Somehow, Jaime had been drained of her strength. Moving solely on instinct with no time to consider options, he dove at the gunman from behind, grabbing the weapon and crushing it while using his body as a battering ram to knock the man down. He reached for Jaime, to help her up or carry her, if necessary, when a firm, commanding voice entered the room.

"_Everyone freeze_!" Jack Hansen, his own weapon drawn, took immediate control of the room, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief; the cavalry had arrived.

Steve was wrong; the cavalry _had_ come, but not for them

- - - - - -


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Jack," Steve said urgently, "we need the medivac. Jaime's hurt, and -"

_**Thwack**_! Steve felt the awful, telltale burn in his stomach before his mind could register that he'd just been shot with an NSB-issued weapon.

"Oh – Jaime's hurt?" the NSB Director said mockingly. "Well, now so are you!"

Steve gasped, trying to regain his breath. "Jack, what the hell -"

"Get on the ground, Steve."

Steve stared at him in mute astonishment.

"Get down there next to your girlfriend, or the next bullet hits something a lot more vital...like _her _pretty little head!"

With no other choice, Steve complied. He wrapped both arms around Jaime and pulled her close, but this time it wasn't for show or part of an act. This gesture, coming straight from his heart, was meant solely to comfort and protect her. Jaime leaned into him gratefully, and the tremors he could feel in her right arm told him all he needed to know: her power source had taken a direct hit. Jaime was in serious trouble.

Hansen's datacom began crackling with life. He frowned and called to the two thugs, who were finally rising to their feet. "Cover her – close – and if either of them makes a sound, shoot her in the head."

Steve tightened his protective hold on her as both thugs pressed the barrels of their guns directly to Jaime's head, and he felt her shudder.

Hansen clicked the datacom on. "Oscar – where the hell are you? What? I'm at the Aqueduct. I high-tailed it up here as soon as I heard about King. Looks like they've cleared out, though; place is deserted. No – sorry – no sign of either of 'em, but I'm still searching. I could use some back-up. How long – great! Hey, do me a favor and kill the power when you guys get here, ok? We'll catch any stragglers by surprise. Right."

Hansen put the datacom back in his pocket. "Put them in the old elevator," he told the thugs.

"The busted one?"

"Yep. Goldman's men will never hear them through those thick double doors, and with any luck, when the power goes out, our friends here will take a nice little plunge."

Steve and Jaime were instantly surrounded by the thugs and the three other flunkies while Hansen went outside to wait. Steve was bleeding profusely, but he struggled mightily to stay conscious – for Jaime. Neither of them could walk very well, so they were unceremoniously and roughly dragged down the hall to an old, rickety elevator and thrown inside.

"Have fun, Kids," one of their captors chuckled as the thick, heavy double doors closed, trapping them inside. Steve did some fast calculating and figured that they were on the elevator that went all the way underground - under the water - and if they plunged, it would be somewhere between eight and ten stories. Survivable, but only if they were on their feet and well-braced.

"Jaime...?" Steve said softly. Her eyelids were fluttering, more closed than open, her face was very pale and her tremoring arm had become very still. Steve pressed an arm across his bleeding stomach as he gently tried to nudge her awake. Her only response was a low moan, and Steve jostled her a little more insistently.

"Sweetheart, I really need you to try and wake up," he urged.

"...can't..."

"Jaime, I need you to wriggle your toes for me. Can you do that? Jaime?" She shifted restlessly in Steve's arms, and finally did as he'd asked. "I need you to keep doing that, Sweetheart, as often as you can, please." Slowly, Jaime looked up at Steve with wide, questioning eyes. "Your power source must be damaged -" he started to explain.

"...was a trap..." she mumbled, not quite coherent.

"I know. You need to keep moving your fingers or your toes, keep a little current moving in there, so hopefully your power source doesn't die out completely." Steve knew that if it did, Jaime would have 90 minutes (or less) to live.

"You're...bleeding..." she whispered, the sight pulling her quickly into full awareness.

"I'm ok. Jaime, is your ear still working?"

Jaime frowned, quieting down to listen. "I think so. I can hear footsteps...some voices. Yeah – it works."

"Good. Now, wiggle your toes some more. Good job. Ok – I need you to tell me the very second you hear a bunch of cars pulling in, or if you hear Oscar's voice."

"K..." she agreed before starting to drift off again. As soon as her eyes closed, though, her head bobbed back up. Jaime was fighting, too. Wordlessly, she stretched out her left arm and pressed firmly against Steve's stomach, to help try and stop the bleeding. Their eyes met, with full understanding of their predicament and a silent agreement to work together, as long as they were able.

"Cars..." Jaime whispered.

"Can you stand up?" Steve asked. He got up with both arms still around her waist, but Jaime's legs wouldn't hold her. Steve would have to take the force of the fall for both of them. Not wanting to scare her any further, he silently picked Jaime up in his arms and braced himself into the corner of the elevator. "Hold onto me," he told her, just before the lights flickered and went out.

Several seconds went by, then the elevator jerked, wobbled...and began to fall.

- - - - - -


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

_Oscar Goldman_ stood outside the Aqueduct, datacom in hand, coordinating the masses of G-men arriving to swarm the area. _Jaime's husband_ longed to rush inside the darkened structure and begin personally searching for his wife. What good was keeping up the ruse, if Jaime was in there, hurt – or dying? Hansen said he hadn't seen Jaime or Steve; had they been grabbed (or worse), the second they walked in the door? Oscar knew, logically, that no one else had the knowledge and authority to enable them to perform his duties, which meant he could help Jaime the most by staying right where he was. Even so, it was with great reluctance and a heavy ache in his heart that Oscar forced himself to stand his ground and do his job.

An unexpected voice behind him nearly made him draw his weapon. "Excuse me, Sir – I think I can help you."

Oscar turned toward the man who had just run up to him, out of breath. He was wearing a blue jacket with **WDCA**emblazoned across the back and again in smaller letters across the front pocket. "I'm Andrew Glazier," he explained, "the General Manager here."

Oscar shook the man's extended hand. "Oscar Goldman, U.S. Government. I was told all personnel...were gone."

"I was on vacation, and I got a phone call telling me what happened, although I'm not sure I understand -"

"Join the rest of us," Oscar sighed. "Andrew, besides the main entrance and the ones on each side, are there any other ways in and out of the structure?"

"Well, there's the maintenance area – it starts on the other side of the dam and runs all the way underneath, but you can't get in there right now, not with the power off."

Oscar immediately switched on the datacom. "Unit Six, I need the power back on. Do it now!" He turned to his new helper. "Show me." As Andrew pointed out the way, Oscar called to his assistant. "Russ, this way – we're going in!"

The passageway was clean, well-lit and very long. As they ran down the hall, quickly searching each room, Oscar's heart told him they were getting closer to Jaime. "This elevator leads up into the far end of the main structure," Andrew told them. "It's temperamental, but I can usually reason with it."

Oscar closed his eyes for a split-second as a totally unfamiliar feeling washed over him: raw terror. As quickly as it came, it was gone, but it left him certain of the one thing that mattered. "Jaime's in there..." he said evenly, trying to keep a grip on his emotions.

"I'll check the stairwell," Russ called out, already on his way through the door and up the stairs.

"Andrew, let's get these doors open," Oscar said to the young man who was already attempting to do exactly that.

"Huh – that's strange," Andrew told him. "No one uses this thing but me. The car should be up on the main floor, but...it's here." He pressed the buttons insistently, but nothing happened. The doors remained firmly closed. "It shouldn't be here," he thought aloud, multiplying Oscar's tension at least tenfold. He didn't feel any better when his young helper broke open a glass cabinet on the wall and pulled out a fire ax.

"Be careful; there are people in there!" Oscar cautioned.

"Oh God, no!" Andrew groaned, freezing in mid-swing. "Sir, this car just took a ten-story dive. If there_are _people in there, you'll need an ambulance...and the coroner."

Oscar didn't have time to absorb this crushing news before Russ, sounding especially strident and harried, called urgently over the datacom. "Shots fired...multiple victims...all available units to the southwest corridor, by the elevator. We've got agents down!"

"Russ, are you hit?" Oscar called back, while Andrew began using the ax blade like a pry bar.

"I'm ok. Just a flesh wound -"

"Are Jaime and Steve up there?"

"Sorry, Oscar – no sign of 'em. But I've got the shooter." Russ knew the identity of the gunman could wait; Oscar had enough to deal with. "Ambulances are on the way, and so is Rudy with the medivac."

"Great – thanks, Russ. I'll be down here for now," Oscar concluded. "Keep me posted." He ran a hand through his hair and took several deep breaths which failed to calm him. "How's that door coming?" he asked Andrew.

"We're almost in."

Oscar tried to brace himself for what he might see. Were his wife and his best friend still alive? Yes, it was possible they were somewhere above ground and safe, but he just knew they were in that broken car – his heart could _feel_ it. Minutes later, Oscar felt as though that same heart had been shattered into a million tiny fragments when the elevator doors finally came apart and he got his first look inside.

- - - - - -


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Oscar had been in the Navy; he'd been to war and served decades in civilian Intelligence. He'd seen the worst of what human beings could do to each other, but none of that compared to the heartbreaking scene that confronted him now. There was blood everywhere. Steve was in one rear corner in a crumpled heap. His legs were mangled, basically crushed, and smoking heavily. His head and face were badly bruised, but both of his arms were still wrapped firmly and protectively around Jaime.

Jaime was face-down, her body curved around and across Steve's, as though he'd been holding her. Her right arm hung limply and she was clinging to Steve with her left. Neither of them was moving, and the whole world seemed deathly silent. At first glance, they didn't appear to be alive.

"Russ," Oscar called into the datacom in a voice choked with emotion, "send Rudy down the second he gets here. It's bad..." Oscar could barely breath himself as he knelt down next to them. He knew it wasn't safe to move them, but he reached out and, with the gentlest possible touch, put a tentative hand on his wife's shoulder. "Jaime...? Steve...?" he whispered. There was no response.

"What made the car fall?" Oscar asked, without turning around.

"It's been malfunctioning for months. Unless the cable was cut..." his voice trailed off.

"_What made it fall?_"

"Probably the loss of power, Sir."

"Oh, my God...I killed them..." Oscar said, very quietly.

"Sir, I don't know what happened here, but I'm sure you were doing your job; you couldn't have known -" Oscar's position had been blocking Andrew's view of the injured couple, but when he sat back on his heels, overwhelmed by grief, Andrew caught a glimpse of Steve's legs. "What the hell -?" He was immediately pulled into a side office by several of the men who had followed Russ back down the stairs.

Russ stood in the elevator doorway, trying to find his voice. He was bleeding from one shoulder, but any physical pain was forgotten in his search for a way to help his friends – and their boss. "Oscar?" Before he could say anything more, the passageway erupted with activity. Rudy ran to the elevator, leading a near-fleet of paramedics with stretchers, backboards and supplies.

Oscar stood up and looked into Rudy's eyes, then back down at Steve and Jaime. Wordlessly, he pleaded with the physician to pull off just two more miracles, then stepped out of the tiny car to give him the space to work.

Russ put a hand on Oscar's shoulder and led him to a chair that Oscar gratefully sank into. "They'll be ok..." Russ told him, hoping he sounded more positive than he felt.

"Did you see them?" Oscar stared at the floor, waiting to find out if he'd just become a widower while barely back from his honeymoon.

"They're in good hands – the best."

Oscar nodded wearily. "I know." His shoulders slumped, and his face suddenly seemed twenty years older. "You need a medic, too."

"I'm ok; I'll get it looked at." Russ hesitated, then went on. "I heard what you said before. None of this is your fault. You need to know that – and believe it."

"When I find out who did this -"

Rudy's call from the broken car changed everything. "Oscar – they're alive! Both of them are alive!"

- - - - - -

With two critically injured patients, plus Rudy and several medics to assist him, there wasn't a spare inch on the medivac. The way Russ was able to drive, though, enabled Oscar to nearly beat the chopper to the hospital. The two men sat together in the small private waiting room, and while Rudy was taking charge of saving two lives, Russ very reluctantly began to tell Oscar the truth about what had just happened. When Oscar brought it up, there was no way that Russ could lie.

"At least they never got a chance to tamper with the water system," Oscar had begun, after a very long few minutes of silence.

There was no other choice; he had to tell his boss the real story, however painful it would be. "Oscar...this was never about the water system, after all." Oscar turned to look at his second-in-command, one eyebrow raised and questions in his eyes. "When I went up the stairwell, I found Jack Hansen at the top. He'd just shot out the upper control panel for the elevator."

"What?" Oscar was stunned. He and the NSB Director weren't friends, but (he thought) they certainly weren't enemies. "That's not possible? Why would he do that – are you sure?"

"I was just opening the door; I saw him do it. He turned and took a shot at me, and that's when Haynes and Burke took him to the floor. He...shot them both. Close range."

"My God – why?"

"He shot out the panel so Steve and Jaime couldn't use the emergency button to summon help, if they survived the fall," Russ explained.

"Then Jack...did...all of this?" Oscar couldn't fathom the possibility.

"I'm afraid so."

"But why? Did he say anything, once he was in custody?"

Russ couldn't look at his boss. He knew the answer would hit himhard"He was setting you up."

Oscar nearly choked on his disbelief. "Excuse me? He – what?"

"It was all a set-up, to force you into a situation where you'd supposedly cause the deaths of multiple operatives, including Jaime and Steve. I don't know why. Oscar...I am so sorry."

Oscar was overwhelmed, almost beyond the point of reason or comprehension. "This is all my fault, then. Steve and Jaime are in there, fighting for their lives – and it's all because of me."

- - - - - -


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Oscar, it isn't your fault that Hansen went off the deep end, and you were just following his suggestion when you had the power turned off. You are _not_ to blame for any of this!"

Oscar opened his mouth to argue, but a figure in the doorway interrupted them. They'd been waiting expectantly for Rudy to bring them news, but this wasn't Rudy.

"Michael?" Oscar rose to his feet to shake Doctor Marchetti's hand, introduced him to Russ and then the three men sat down together to talk about the only thing on everyone's mind.

"Rudy called me in to help, since Jaime and Steve are both in need of intensive care and treatment," Michael explained.

"How are they?" Oscar asked, his heart pounding.

"I've just come from Jaime's room. She took a strong jolt of electricity to her right arm and shorted out her power supply, so she was on borrowed time, even before the accident. Steve was apparently able to cushion her fall, but her injuries are still quite serious. Her internal organs are badly bruised, and the concussive force to her brain could have easily killed her. If she hadn't been cushioned, if Steve hadn't been shielding her..."

"He saved her life," Oscar concluded.

"She's still in very serious condition, Oscar, but she _is_ beginning to stabilize. I hope to be able to move her into a regular room in a few days. We'll have to watch her very closely for any signs of bionic rejection."

"And...Steve? How is he?" Oscar asked anxiously.

"Steve's injuries are much more severe. Rudy's taking him into surgery right now. His legs are...gone, but they're the least of our worries. Steve's skull was fractured when they hit the ground, and the bullet wound -"

"He was shot?" Oscar interrupted.

Michael nodded. "The bullet tore a hole in his stomach and lodged somewhere in his chest. In a way, it was fortunate that Jaime landed on top of him. Her weight staunched the bleeding, keeping him alive, but I'm afraid it doesn't look good. Rudy thinks he may not survive the surgery, but we have no other choice than to try and repair the damage from the bullet. The legs can wait...if he lives."

Oscar sat quietly, taking it all in like a bullet to his own heart. "Is Jaime awake yet? Does she know?"

"No, but you can sit with her, if you'd like."

Oscar formally placed Russ in charge of further investigations, and followed Michael down the hall to Jaime's cubicle. He pulled a chair up directly next to her bed, hoping that before she woke up he could find the words to tell his wife about Steve. He had to force back tears of guilt and anguish as he looked at her. When Jaime had been face down in the elevator, it was impossible to see the effects of the crash, and she had been taken aboard the medivac so quickly that this was Oscar's first good look at the injuries she'd suffered.

Her face, or what he could see of it through all of the bandages and gauze, looked almost like she'd been beaten. He longed to touch her, to take her hand and try to give her even a little bit of comfort, but he was terrified of hurting her any further.

"Babe," he whispered, barely able to speak, "I am so sorry..." Finally, with his back to the rest of the world to hide his emotions, Oscar's tears began to fall.

Something in his voice penetrated the heavy fog that had kept Jaime unconscious. She could hear his words and feel the intensity of his pain, and the need to be with him gave her enough focus to pull back from the brink. Very slowly, she opened her eyes.

"Not...your...fault..." she murmured, struggling for each word.

Oscar's hand flew to the call button, to summon Michael. The doctor was there within seconds. "Hi, Jaime," Michael said softly, checking the readings on her monitors, then smiling warmly at his patient. "Welcome back."

"Michael, she's in a lot of pain," Oscar told him, his eye's never leaving his wife's face.

Michael nodded, quickly checking Jaime's vital signs before removing a syringe from his pocket. "This is very strong," the doctor said to both of them. "I'll put it right in your IV, Jaime, so you should start to feel more comfortable very quickly."

Oscar took Jaime's hand, very gently, so as not to hurt her. "Thank you," he whispered, still unable to take his gaze away from her pain-filled eyes. "I'll stay with her, Michael."

"Ok; I'll check back in a few minutes."

Oscar leaned in closer, once they were alone, and placed a feather-soft kiss on Jaime's forehead. "I love you," he told her, very quietly. "Hang on, Babe; you'll be ok."

"How's...Steve...?" Oscar knew the question would be coming, and there it was.

"Rudy's working on him now – they've got him in surgery. That's all we know, so far," he answered. He'd give her a little information at a time, and hopefully when she was ready to hear more, the news would be more encouraging. Jaime managed a very weak smile, then sank into a comforting cushion of oblivion. Oscar watched her sleep, his mind drifting into angry thoughts of what he would do to Jack Hansen, as soon as he got a few minutes alone with him.

- - - - - -


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Jaime spent the next day and a half drifting in and out of consciousness, in too much pain when she was awake to ask any questions. Oscar refused to leave her side, except for a few minutes at a time, when he checked on Steve. His heroic friend had survived the initial surgery – barely – and had been lying in a deep, unresponsive coma ever since. Oscar had plenty of time to sit at Jaime's side with nothing to do but think – and grow angrier.

Finally, just before the second sunrise that Oscar had spent at her bedside, Jaime opened her eyes and was actually _there._ "You should go home," she insisted, very softly.

"Jaime?" Tears formed in Oscar's weary eyes. "It's so good to hear your voice, Babe." He leaned in to kiss her – very carefully, but still brimming with love and relief.

"My boss...wouldn't do that," Jaime pointed out, still extremely weak but very much present.

"I don't care," her husband retorted. "I love you, and I've been so worried about you." He kissed her once more before leaning back in his chair and assuming a more 'professional' demeanor. He smiled when Jaime reached over to take his hand.

_I love you, too, _she mouthed silently, basking in the warmth of Oscar's love. For a precious few minutes, they were able to forget about everything and everyone – except each other.

Rudy's entrance snapped them both instantly back into their roles. "It's good to see one of my patients looking so chipper," the doctor exclaimed. Oscar cringed inside, knowing this would trigger _the_ question.

It did. "Rudy, how's Steve?" Jaime asked, still holding Oscar's hand. Oscar subtly held on a little tighter, to support her as she listened.

Rudy glanced at Oscar, and they both knew it was time for the full truth. "Jaime," Rudy began, as gently as possible, "he's still in very bad shape." Oscar watched Jaime closely as she absorbed the grim news, and the tears that streamed down her face brought his inner turmoil to its flash point. He knew what he had to do – for Jaime and Steve, as well as for himself – and the time had come to do it.

- - - - - -

Oscar waited until the following day, when Jaime was completely out of danger and had been transferred out of the ICU, to start making phone calls. By early that afternoon, he was ready. Jack Hansen looked up from the thin, metal cot he sat on in the OSI equivalent of The Hole to see Oscar walking into his cell and closing the door behind him. Oscar locked the solid metal door himself, and placed the key in his pocket. Jack knew that meant there was no guard on the other side of the door to let Oscar out again. The air was thick with the malice of an unspoken threat, and they were completely alone.

- - - - - -

Jaime, meanwhile, had finally convinced the doctors to let her see Steve. Michael pushed her down to Steve's cubicle in a wheelchair – it was still too painful for her to walk – and then made himself scarce.

"Hey, Austin," Jaime began, trying for humor to keep herself from sobbing, "remember when we were kids, how we always tried to 'one-up' each other?" She brushed away a lone tear that had intruded in spite of her efforts. "Well, I'm awake and I'm up and around – sort of. You gonna let me win...or are you gonna try and keep up?" There was no answer from Steve, and Jaime continued her effort to urge him back to life by egging on his competitive side. "This isn't like you, Steve, letting a woman beat you to the good part. Especially letting me..." Jaime couldn't go on in joking mode. "Steve..." she pleaded, "you saved me, but...I need _you _to be ok, too. Please, Steve..." Jaime's tears overtook her, and she had no more words.

The slight stirring from the bed took her tears (and her breath) away. The beloved voice was weak, but was one she'd thought she might never hear again. "I...haven't given...up...yet."

- - - - - -

Oscar stood silently, glaring at the man who had set him up to lose everything: his wife, his best friend and his career. His actual motive wasn't important. Oscar had trusted him; hell, they'd worked side-by-side on the same cases, more often than he could count. Jaime had nearly died, Steve's survival was still in serious doubt and Oscar stood unimpeded in front of the man responsible.

"Well, Goldman," Jack said with a sarcastic smirk, "imagine the two of us, meeting here."

That did it. _Forgive me, God, _Oscar thought to himself. _I love you, Jaime._ Without uttering a single word, Oscar advanced on his nemesis, his eyes and his fists blazing.

- - - - - -


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Jaime was sitting up in bed, eager to share the good news about Steve with her husband, when Russ found her. "Is Oscar with you?" she asked, her eyes as bright as her mood.

"I was sort of hoping I'd find him here," Russ responded. "Have you heard from him?"

"He was here; he left just after lunch, said he had some stuff to take care of and would be back soon. Russ, what's going on?" Jaime's trained eye took in his suit – three piece? - the briefcase and the assistant waiting in the hallway, and her operative instincts took hold, throwing her mood and her mind into a tailspin. "Oh no...he didn't...Oscar – resigned, didn't he?"

"Not necessarily," Russ hedged. He knew Oscar shouldn't have been gone this long. A black eye, a punch to Hansen's gut, shouldn't have taken more than a few minutes. _Where was Oscar?_

"Not necessarily? What the hell does that mean? Russ, where is my hu – Oscar?" Jaime shuddered; she'd nearly given away their secret with one slip of her tongue. Russ stared blankly, trying to avoid Jaime's penetrating gaze. "Russ, _where is he_?"

"It's only a leave of absence, Jaime; hopefully a very short one. He went to see Hansen," Russ admitted. _Great one – I'll never make it as Director if I can't even keep my damned mouth shut!_

"No-o-o!"

Jaime's anguished wail brought both of her doctors at a dead run. The husband no one (except Steve) even knew she had was off doing God-only-knew-what, and Jaime was inconsolable.

- - - - - -

Oscar was taking his time, doing what he'd come to do in exactly the fashion he'd planned to do it. He stood directly over Jack's Hansen's prone body, waiting patiently.

"We're not finished," he said with a quiet anger, as his nemesis opened his eyes. "We're nowhere near finished." Oscar had only thrown two punches – one to the stomach and the second in Hansen's face – and he wasn't about to keep pummeling an unconscious man. No – he wanted Hansen to _feel _every moment of this.

Hansen shook off the residual dizziness and stood unblinking, mere inches from Oscar's face. "You crossed the line, Goldman. You think you can walk into a closed cell and do...that? They'll have your career – and your chachingas in a sling - for this!"

Oscar smiled. "What career? I resigned – just so I could do _this_!" With one powerful, angry hand, he grabbed Hansen by the throat and pushed him back against the hard, concrete and metal wall of the cell. His other hand drew back, into a fist. "If this was about me, you could've come after me – shot me, for all I care – but to go after people I care about, people I _love...!" _His fist slammed into Hansen's face, raising a welt just above his eye. "That was for Jaime!" he told him, "and this -" he made an identical welt above the other eye, "is for Steve. Now, this one is just because I want to!" Oscar used the hand around Jack's throat to slam his head into the wall and at the same time, he landed multiple blows to his midsection. Jack began to slump toward the floor, but Oscar held him upright. "Don't bother passing out, Jack. I'm a patient man, and you're going to feel every bit of this." _Slam! _

"This...isn't like...you," Hansen gasped, any sense of bravado or smugness gone now.

"I trusted you!" _Slam! _"You nearly killed Jaime!" Another fist connected with the former NSB Director's gut. "Steve is still critical. He's _dying_!" _**Slam! **_Oscar saw Jack's eyes begin to fog over, and he knew a few more blows would be likely to kill him. He'd never had murder in his soul before, but after what he'd seen Jaime go through...

_Jaime!_ She loved him, trusted him. He could probably get away with this; he'd planned it well enough. But...Jaime didn't deserve a murderer for a husband, no matter how righteous the cause. His eyes still blazing but his fury beginning to abate, Oscar released his hold on Hansen and let him fall slowly to the floor.

"Be more careful next time, Jack," he said on his way out the door. "Slipping on your way into your bunk can be hazardous to your health."

- - - - - -

Oscar returned to the hospital to find a flurry of activity around his wife's bed. Had something happened to Jaime? She was sitting up in bed, with both doctors tending to her and...she was crying. Oscar had to fight with all his internal strength not to rush over and sweep her into his arms to comfort her. He saw Russ standing by the far wall, and moved over to join him.

"What happened?" he asked, trying to sound objective. "Is she alright? Is Steve -?"

Russ looked him over solemnly, still clutching the Director's briefcase, as well as the temporary title. "You'd better get rid of that suit coat," he whispered, eying the small spatters of blood on the sleeve and the lapel.

Oscar quickly removed it, rolling it into a ball. "What happened to Jaime?" he repeated.

"What happened to _you_ is the question of the hour. Where were you?"

"Russ, you know where I went."

"Yeah, but you were gone a long time." Russ hesitated. "Are you even eligible to take your job back?"

"Of course I am. Jack had a...little accident, falling out of his bunk. He'll recover – unfortunately."

Russ nodded. "Good. I was beginning to think -"

"I almost did," Oscar confirmed, not letting him finish. He turned again to look at Jaime, who was looking back at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"She'll be ok, too," Russ told him. "It was my fault; I was looking for you, and I think I got her upset. I'm sorry, Oscar." He held out the briefcase and – symbolically – the position itself to his former and future boss.

"Thanks, Russ; I appreciate your help, and I need to ask you to keep it a little while longer. Just for a week or so, two weeks, tops, until Jaime is released and Steve's out of danger."

Russ nodded his agreement. "But I'm holding you to that, and I'll be counting the days. Only a crazy person would want this job permanently."

- - - - - -


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

"I need to talk to Oscar," Jaime insisted to her doctors. She couldn't stand seeing him across the room (instead of in her arms) for one more second. Michael nodded, and after Rudy made one more quick check of their patient's vital signs, the doctors left.

"Oscar, let's talk in the morning," Russ suggested. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on here, but he knew Oscar and Jaime needed some privacy. He shook Oscar's hand and then closed the door on his way out.

Oscar rushed to Jaime's side, enveloping her in his embrace and gently pulling her close. Their lips met with a desperate need to re-connect and simply be together. "I'm so sorry you were worried," he told her, tenderly brushing away her tears.

"Why didn't you tell me where you were going?" Jaime asked.

"Because you would've tried to stop me," he said simply.

"God, Oscar, did you...?"

"I wanted to; but I didn't."

"Thank you."

"Jaime -"

"It wouldn't have solved anything, you know."

"Jaime...I didn't kill him, but...I did hurt him."

"I know." Jaime kissed him again. "I won't lie and say I think that was right, but I know you felt you had to -"

"For you and Steve; not for myself. What he did to you..."

"Oscar, Steve's awake!" she said, her mood lightening a bit. "He came out of it." She sighed happily and snuggled further into the comfort of his arms. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Babe. I...need to ask you something."

"Ok..." Jaime saw the serious look in his eyes and felt a touch of fear.

"I sent you and Steve into a trap – a trap that was set because of me."

"Oscar -"

"Please let me say this. I screwed up, Jaime."

"No -"

"I took that lunatic at his word, and I cut the power. I made that elevator crash. Now, today, I..._visited_ with Jack."

"What are you saying?" Jaime asked, very quietly.

"I'm on a personal leave, but I could make it permanent. Do you think I should resign?"

"Are you asking your operative, or your wife?"

"Both. And please, Babe, tell me the truth."

"Nothing but." Jaime leaned back slightly to caress his face with both hands and smile directly into his eyes. "As much as your wife would love to have you all to herself, your operative and your wife are in total agreement. Resign? No way in hell – this country _needs _you. And as long as I get a great big chunk, I'm willing to share."

- - - - - -

Several days later, while Jaime was undergoing a battery of tests, Oscar sat down next to Steve's bed and waited for his friend to wake up. "Don't you _ever_ go home?" the voice from the bed chided, before its owner had even opened his eyes.

"Only when I'm bringing my wife through the front door with me," Oscar responded. "And it's only because of you that I'll be able to do that. Steve, I can't even begin to thank you -"

"Good; then don't – please? Besides, you took care of Hansen for me; that's all the thanks I need."

"What? By seeing that he got medical care after his accident?"

Steve chuckled. "Yeah. That's it."

"Rudy tells me you'll be getting your new legs tomorrow."

"And I'll be back on my new feet – and back to work – in no time."

"Actually, Pal, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"You're not putting me out to pasture...are you?" Steve asked.

"After everything you've been through, you need – you _deserve_ – the down time. You've been asking to be retired for years."

"But not like this."

"I'm sorry, Pal -"

"I want to keep helping you and Jaime, though. The two of you _need _me – unless you've decided to go public."

"We talked about that this morning. We'd both like to do that – to not have to hide to share a kiss – but it would put Jaime in too much danger. I won't do that to her. But we've both agreed to come up with a different cover. This is too hard on you; it's too much to ask of anyone," Oscar said firmly.

"I _want _to help you. Hell, it was my idea!"

"Steve," Oscar said softly, "I know you still love her. The last thing either of us want is to cause you any more pain. You've already done so much..."

"You're right; I do love her, and I always will – you know that. But if Jaime and I can't be together, I'm happy she's with you. You're good to her – you're good _for _her – and it doesn't take a bionic eye to see how much you love each other. Please...let me help."

"I'll talk to Jaime," Oscar promised.

When Oscar got back to Jaime's room, though, he found Russ waiting for him. "Oh no," Oscar jested, "you're not forcing that briefcase back into my hands even one minute early!"

Russ didn't smile. "I'm here on business, Oscar." He glanced at Jaime. Not knowing her connection to Oscar, he thought it best they remove themselves from her room to talk. "Rudy offered the use of his office, so we could talk in private."

"What's this about?" Oscar asked, when they'd shut themselves in the tiny office.

"I need to take your statement about how Jack Hansen was injured."

"Officially?"

"Yes."

Oscar shrugged. "Not much to tell, really. I guess he was surprised to see me; he fell right off his bunk."

"For the record, did you put your hands on him at any time?" Russ probed.

"Well, I did try to help him up, but he shook me off and tried to get back on the bunk by himself. Fell a second time. Maybe those metal corners are slippery, or maybe he's just clumsy; I couldn't say for sure."

"Anything else?"

"Nope. That covers it."

Russ nodded. He knew none of it was true, as well as Oscar did, but they had to go through the formalities. "I appreciate your cooperation," he said, shaking Oscar's hand as he got up to go. "I see no reason to pursue this any further. Thank you, Oscar."

"Thank _you_."

- - - - - -


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Two days after his surgery, Rudy found Steve out of bed (on his own!) and standing at the window to watch Jaime on her first morning of outside exercise with Michael.

"She's doing really well," Steve said with a lop-sided grin, ignoring the doctor's shocked expression.

"_**What **__are you doing_?" Rudy demanded.

"Watching Jaime," Steve said, like it was the most logical, natural answer in the world. "I'm not ready to become a professional patient, Rudy. I want outta here. No offense."

Rudy shook his head in mock anger. "At least sit down."

Steve's eyes never left Jaime while Rudy checked him over. "She _is_ ok...isn't she? Should she be doing that so soon?"

"She's still hurting," the doctor conceded, "but she's also one of the only human beings on the planet who's more stubborn than you are. Probably why you're such a perfect match."

"Probably," Steve agreed, noticing Oscar was watching Jaime, too, from a bench very close to where Michael was slowly and carefully leading her through her paces.

Rudy saw him, too. "Oscar's taking quite an interest in her recovery – yours, too – especially for someone on a leave of absence."

"Yeah, he's a good guy, but he worries too much." Casually, almost as an afterthought, Steve added "Think I'll head down there, too."

"_Oh, no you don't_!" Rudy told him. "Look around the room, Steve – take a really good look. _This is the ICU_ – you are the patient. You will leave this room at this moment over my cold, dead body!"

"He giving you a hard time, Rudy?" Russ chimed in from the doorway in a very stern, official voice (while wearing an ear-to-ear grin). His tone changed to match his smile. "Hi, Steve."

"Explain to him the concept of 'rest and recuperation', will you, Russ?" Rudy said. Even though he meant it, he was smiling, too. "I'll be checking, Steve – _be here_!"

"Ok, Doc," Steve conceded. He turned to Russ, who was also watching the workout session. "Social call, Russ?"

"Just checking in on you and Jaime. Steve, what's going on with Oscar?"

"Huh?"

"He hasn't gone home since the two of you were admitted. He's been spending the nights dozing in a chair by Jaime's bed, or in Rudy's office."

"I think he still feels guilty," Steve ventured. _Please let him buy that, _he thought to himself.

"I know how close you and Jaime have always been," Russ continued, "and I hate to even say this, but, well, it almost looks like she and Oscar have a thing going..."

- - - - - -

Steve had been a part of the charade for long enough to be able to easily placate Russ – to laugh it off - because even Russ had to admit how ridiculous that sounded. He continued to watch at the window, while Russ went outside, and as soon as Jaime and Michael were done, he listened closely for their footsteps coming down the tile hallway, and whispered "Jaime, I need to talk to you."

She was there minutes later. "How ya feeling?" she asked, plopping down comfortably on the window sill.

"Real tired of being a patient."

Jaime laughed. "I know what you mean. What's up – you wanted to talk to me?"

Steve patted the edge of his bed. "Come sit here, by me." Eying him curiously, Jaime complied. Steve took her hand, feeling a brief twinge at the knowledge it could only be an act. "People are talking," he said slowly.

"Yeah; they tend to do that. Stifles the boredom of silence."

"Jaime -"

"Sorry. Talking about what?"

"You. And Oscar."

"Oh-oh..." she leaned down and kissed him. "Guess we have to make with the old song-and-dance again, huh?"

Steve flashed her a wicked grin. "Is it that terrible, kissing me?"

Jaime blushed. "Of course not! It's just that..."

"I know. You don't have to say any more. Look, like I told Oscar the other day, I wanna keep on helping you, keep on doing this, until you two are ready to enter the spotlight. You deserve the same chance as anyone else to be together, and I'll do anything I can to help you, for as long as it takes."

"Steve, we have no idea how long that'll be."

"I know. But I need something to fill my days; he's retiring me, you know."

Jaime looked sheepish. "It...was my idea."

"Thanks a lot. I know you meant well, though."

"Steve, Oscar said he's gonna keep you at full salary, and just retire you unofficially, so you _can _keep this going, but..."

"What?"

"Are you sure you still want to? That it isn't too hard?"

"Kissing you, especially if I'm getting paid for it, is most definitely an assignment I can live with." He chuckled as Jaime blushed again, and he reached out his arms to draw her in for just a little more of their act.

Oscar happened to choose that moment to pass by the door to the ICU, and he had to force himself not to react, to keep on walking. Seeing his wife in another man's arms – a man who still loved her, no less – was almost too much to swallow, but it was the only means they had to allow them to be together.

- - - - - -


	12. Chapter 12

Epilogue

Steve finally left the ICU on the same day that Jaime was released from the hospital. While the kisses they shared were just for show, the sentiments they whispered back and forth were from their hearts and very real.

"Steve," Jaime whispered, "I -"

"If you thank me one more time, I might have to take drastic measures."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Like...standing out on the ledge so you have to rescue me. Then, we'd be even."

"Very funny, Austin." She kissed him again. "I'll be back tomorrow to see you."

"No, you won't. You and Oscar deserve some time to yourselves."

"But -"

"He's got three more days of leave time, and I don't wanna see you back here until he goes back to work."

"Steve -"

"Anybody asks, I'll tell them you needed some de-hospitalization time. Non-negotiable. Spend three days with no one but your husband. _That _is an order."

Jaime grinned. "I like how you think."

Oscar waited in the hallway between the two hospital rooms while Steve and Jaime said their goodbyes, and that was where Russ found him. "Waiting for someone?" he asked.

"I'm giving Jaime a ride home."

Russ glanced into Steve's room, smiling at the sight of the very happily occupied couple. "Looks like life is back to normal. I can't believe that a few days ago, I actually thought..." his voice trailed off as he laughed.

"What?"

"I thought you and Jaime were having an affair – a fling – something like that."

Oscar rolled his eyes, sighing to himself at their narrow escape. "If I so much as thought about touching her, the Secretary would have my head on a silver platter."

"Yeah I know," Russ agreed. "Then I'd never get rid of this damned briefcase. Matter of fact, you can have it back right now, if you want."

"No deal, my friend. I've got three more days of freedom first." _And I plan to spend every minute of it with my wife in my arms!_

"Two days, twenty-two hours and..." Russ looked at his watch, "seventeen minutes. And I'm holding you to it."

Oscar smiled, thinking how much re-acquainting he and Jaime could do in that amount of time. "Friend, you've got yourself a deal."

END


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